


The honey trap

by Hypatia_66



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Related, F/M, Falling In Love, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 15:32:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13573545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hypatia_66/pseuds/Hypatia_66
Summary: Illya falls in love. It can't last. Napoleon can only watch and hope for the best.





	The honey trap

**The honey trap**

Something was different. It wasn’t just the noticeably more-expensive cologne. Never exactly a little ray of sunshine at any time, there was today a distinct glow about his usually taciturn, often morose, entirely private and self-contained partner.

Napoleon blamed the effect of honey. His taciturn, morose, and normally self-contained partner had acquired a wide-eyed, frown-free look such as a man gets when he’s in love and can’t believe his luck. The woman in question had fallen for him the moment she saw him, which Napoleon put down to poor taste; moreover, she had been indifferent to himself, which kind of confirmed it.

It was that blonde, doe-eyed Hungarian girl in the honey shop who had been captured along with Illya and endured the noise torture with him when he refused to divulge any details about UNCLE’s air-conditioning system. She had forgiven him for allowing the torture to continue as long as it did; she had even forgiven him for being Russian, which, considering the manner of her family’s escape from Soviet oppression, was quite surprising. What did he have that Napoleon didn’t?

After all, Illya had made mistake after mistake that day, though in the end he had actually saved the day by smashing all the jars of honey and catching all those killer bees. And, while the reward was grudging approval from the Chief, Napoleon was revolted to observe that the adoring look that beautiful young woman was giving him had been much more to his taste. What’s more, instead of spending the evening after a mission as usual in company with his American partner, Illya had wilfully – _wilfully –_ submitted to other temptations. Dancing? – Yeah, very likely. No doubt that was why there was that glow about him today.

Napoleon rarely committed the cardinal sin of falling in love. Well, that wasn’t quite true, of course… But it hadn’t happened lately, and there was only the one now. And _she_ wasn’t free. He considered the other women in Illya’s life – his previous affairs had never involved anything more than a simple sharing of mutual pleasure; he’d never been in love as far as Napoleon knew, though now he thought about it, actually he _didn’t_ know. There was Marion, of course, but that hadn’t been serious for long. How far did Illya want this one to go? It was a serious matter of concern, not least because of how he might behave on dangerous missions – would he always be thinking about _her_ , and not him?

oo000oo

They had a quiet week or two in which to catch up on the paperwork, and carry out other lesser duties. Not needing to stay late, therefore, they went home at a civilised hour. Napoleon spent the evenings in bars and restaurants with some lucky lady – never the same one – and Illya spent his… wherever it was that brought him in every morning rather sleepy. The tables were turned and Napoleon now recognised why Illya was so frequently irritated with him in the morning.

When the Bridge of Lions affair brought him a bullet wound, things progressed further. Tavia flew to London to look after him – not that he really needed it; he was well enough to get back to the job of cat-hunting within days. But the relationship became even stronger. He did send her home, however – she was too distracting.

He was distracted again, though, by a remark of the newly rejuvenated Norman Swickert about the effects of marriage to the right woman. Napoleon noted his partner’s brief, thoughtful stillness, and sighed inwardly. Illya wasn’t good marriage material, he really wasn’t – any more than he, Napoleon, was. He must know that...

oo000oo

Well, all good things must come to an end, and it was a brief passion, kindled in the desert, that demonstrated Illya’s unfitness for monogamy. Barbara wasn’t free, but she’d been available and willing – the scenario was quite obvious to a man of Napoleon’s rich experience and finely-honed acumen.

When they got to Marrakesh and parted from Barbara, he was able to speak his mind.

“You’ll miss her,” he began, casually.

“Yes, she’s quite a girl. A bit fierce, though – she bites.”

Napoleon winced. “Too much information, old friend. But since you are in an informative mood, tell me something else – what about Tavia?”

Illya coloured slightly, and cleared his throat. “What about her?”

“You tell me, chum. You’ve been besotted for weeks, and now you’re suddenly seduced by someone else.”

“I wasn’t seduced – I mean…“

“I know what you mean.”

“Look, it’s cold in the desert at night and I had almost no clothes on… We had to keep warm.”

“Yeah, and that’s exactly my point. It wasn’t difficult to succumb to temptation, was it?” He looked Illya firmly in the eye. “You’ll have to tell Tavia that your affair with her is not going any further – it’s only kind. Tell her it was a nice little love affair – thank you, I’ve enjoyed it; goodbye.”

“I don’t think much of your script, Napoleon. It was more than that.” He hung his head.

“Was?”

“Is, I mean.”

Napoleon put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder and shook him gently.

“… Oh, Napoleon… I know… you’re right. She loves me, and I love her too, in a way – but …”

“But ‘I’m not ever going to be the kind of man who wants to come home to a comfortable nest, or be a faithful husband’, right? You’ll have to tell her. Maybe more tactfully, but she’s a sweet girl, you owe it to her.”

“I know.”

oo000oo

Taciturn, morose, and unhappy, Illya worked for a time under a cloud of negatives behind an invisible barrier in his corner of the office. Napoleon despaired. He couldn’t even ask what had happened – obvious as it was – but the details were never going to be forthcoming.

They were busy, however. One job involved them both being irradiated, which may have paradoxically contributed something to Illya’s recovery. It wasn’t certain, but it was quite possible that they had been rendered infertile, which wouldn’t make either of them much of a proposition as a husband and father, though of course it offered alluring prospects for less permanent relationships.

Illya’s recovery was further noticeable in his unusually sympathetic reaction to Napoleon’s own love affair during the Nowhere business. He displayed his usual grumpy attitude, of course, but more from habit than conviction.

So, now Napoleon felt able to ask him, “How are things with Tavia?”

There was no answering glare, but instead a softer glance. “She’s OK. Her dance studio is doing well – I think she may have found a new partner.”

“And you?”

“I’m fine. I’m always fine. But … I kind of miss her.”

“I’ve noticed. But she deserves to be happy. You wouldn’t have made her happy, you know that.”

Illya was silent for a while, then he said, “It’s selfish I guess, but even knowing that – I think I’d like to have tried.”

Napoleon smiled, “You’ve got _me_ ,” he said consolingly, “and I’m very happy,” a response which earned only Illya’s glare and his retreat into morose taciturnity. But, his happy partner reasoned, it was quite reassuring, really – at least he was getting back to normal.

oo000oo

**Author's Note:**

> The references are to The Birds and Bees Affair, The Bridge of Lions Affair, The Moonglow Affair, The Foreign Legion Affair, and the Nowhere Affair.


End file.
